


Correct Ways of Slaying Ra-Netu:12

by danithemani



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Beginnings, Canon-Typical Violence, Culture Shock, Elder Scrolls Lore, Foreign Language, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Nords (Elder Scrolls), Plot, Redguards (Elder Scrolls), Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danithemani/pseuds/danithemani
Summary: Danier had not expected to be a wayfarer, but the sea took him to someplace new. Skyrim and their Nords were unlike anything he had ever seen. He would never be able to return home-- maybe he could make a new one.





	Correct Ways of Slaying Ra-Netu:12

"Damned Kinlords. You own half the main island and go off and do something like that."

Heavy footsteps thudded against the wooden dock. Crowds of people were crammed into the hull and the cabin reeked of sweat and dust. He had spent weeks on that boat, packed in with strangers both vulgar and common. Words he had never heard hit his ears in a language that still seemed so foreign. The Redguard had never been around sailors or soldiers-- he could not imagine what Skyrim would bring.

"Deserved it is what he did."

Gilded armor carried the glimmer of saltwater as the Altmer walked ahead. The Redguard made sure to stay several paces behind, his dark hair covered by a hood. He knew that he did not belong and did not look to draw attention to that.

"Sanguine did a lot for that one, didn't he?"

The trio laughed. He wasn't sure how long he'd been on that boat-- but every moment seemed like an eternity. There were more of them, ten, maybe fifteen that stayed on the ship.

"I can't wait until the boat comes back in. I hate this godsforsaken place."

The paved rock under the Redguard's feet was crumbling. It bit into his shoes, barely keeping out the cold that nipped at his leather soles. He set his eyes on a doorway built into the side of the city, hoping to avoid the front gates and the attention it may bring.

"I can't believe they let Elenywen put us on the boat with that lot. Mercenaries and thieves. Worse yet-- Nords."

The Redguard had never met one of these Nords before his passage. These men complained of the heat and the watered-down mead. Their pale skin was exposed in open shirts and they wore their hair long and unkempt; he turned his eyes away when they met his.

"It was dangerous is what it is. Too many variables. We could've been compromised. What if someone--"

"Don't be daft, Aldaan. The Justiciar wouldn't have let anyone alive. Not anyone important, anyway."

The Redguard held his breath and kept his eyes to the ground, slowing his pace further. A northeasterly wind threatened to pull down his hood and he held it close against his neck. He had never felt air this cold.

"Still. I don't know why we didn't have our own boat."

"They have a reason for it. Don't question your superiors, soldier."

As the Altmer -- Thalmor, they were called -- passed, the Redguard ducked into the wooden door. He closed it behind him and let out a breath. At least it was an escape from the wind. He had not had a moment truly to himself since he set foot on the passenger ship. His feet carried him past the stairwell and back into the blinding sunlight of the city. The market -- this is what it had to have been -- was empty. Surely this time of day--

"They can't hurt uncle Roggvir. Tell them he didn't do it."

A young girl's voice carried in the wind, fresh with pain. The Redguard followed it to rows of stone buildings that grew into the sky. People were crowded

"Positions."

"Svari, you need to go home. Go home and stay there until your mother comes."

**"** Lock the city gate."

A tall man in a red cuirass, another Nord, stood on a stone platform, pointing to another group of men in similar garments.

"You should tell her that her uncle is scum that betrayed his High King. Best she know now, Addvar."

"You're all heart, Vivienne."

"Roggvir. You helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg. By opening that gate for Ulfric you betrayed the people of Solitude."

"Traitor!"

"He doesn't deserve to speak!"

"There was no murder! Ulfric challenged Torygg. He beat the High King in fair combat."

"Liar!"

"Such as our way! Such as the ancient custom of Skyrim, and all Nords!"

The crowd jeered, even at the moment of this man's death.

"Cut 'em down!"

The executioner, a large Redguard man, stood behind them.

**"** Guard. Prepare the prisoner."

**"** I don't need your help."

"Very well, Roggvir. Bow your head."

"On this day... I go to Sovngarde."

The thud of a headsman's axe hit the chopping block. The Redguard turned his head and held onto the amulet around his neck.

"HoonDing, give me strength."

It did not take long for the crowd to leave. They scattered back to their buildings, some with a satisfied grin and others with their heads hung low. He kept close to a stone wall. Finally, the executioner left the platform and stopped to look at the other Redguard.

"If you're trying to loot 'em, there's nothing left worth taking."

He held his hands tight against his sides and kept his eyes to the ground.

"I apologize, _raga_ , I am just--"

"Just watch yourself. You don't want to meet me on the job."

The Redguard bowed his head as the other passed. His arms moved from his sides to clutch each other. When his eyes raised from the dirt, the streets were bustling again. People stood behind stalls, shouting at passerby. Their words ran together in his ears.

The Redguard looked back towards the door he entered in. He thought of leaving the city, but leaving that would only mean that entering again would draw suspicion. He recognized only one building-- a tomb and started towards it.

* * *

The room was filled with the smell of dirt and mildew. Bodies were wrapped in linen and kept on shelves. He had heard of these places -- where the dead lay open, exposed to air -- but he had never seen it. The Nords had so sense of decency, leaving their dead in the street and their interred subject to the elements. His thoughts were broken when an older man in amber-colored robes walked down the hall.

"Ah-- I did not expect a visitor to the catacombs at this time of day."

"I apologize-- I did not know where else to rest."

He stood from the bench and cast his eyes to the floor with a liight bow.

"There's no need for that. It is not my place to keep you from the honored dead."

"I will cause no dishonor while I am here."

The Redguard's words were quick and sharp, slung between his teeth. 

"You look like you are mourning. Arkay will be with you."

"Your gods are not mine."

Danier clenched his teeth. Sounds tumbled out of his throat before he was able to control them.

"Tu'wahacca then, son?"

He nodded.

"It is not many of your kind who find themselves so at home with the dead. Surely Tu'waccha would not mind you to sit in the Temple of the Divines."

The Redguard shook his head.

"I can not."

He took the amulet that laid against his neck and pressed it into his palm.

"A true Crown, then. I will not cross you, warrior. But remember you are in Arkay's domain."

"I will not forget."

His own words seemed so foreign; he had not used that tongue in years. It felt like gravel in his throat, like the stones that cut into his boots.

"There is a place for everyone. You'd do best not to forget that."

"It does not seem that way in Skyrim."

The older Nord let out a sigh that rocked his shoulders.

"I regret that an execution was the first thing you've seen."

"Why did they leave his body there?"

"He was a traitor. He let Ulfric in the gates before he killed the High King."

"That man -- Ra-ogg-vir -- he was challenged, was he not? That is no murder."

"Torygg was not much more than a boy. But both did what they thought was right. It's not for me to say -- the Legion made their decision."

"What would Yul-fric want from the King?"

"I suppose the news hadn't made it to Hammerfell. He's trying to become King. He wants to throw the Thalmor out of Skyrim and the Legion with it."

It hit his face like frostbite. 

"I do not know much of the Thalmor."

The words fell out of his mouth, bitter and hot.

"There isn't much to know. Most don't want them here, but it's a necessary evil."

"How do you feel?"

"We all recognize death -- in one way or another. They give me or Arkay no mind. But I've had to tend to who they leave behind."

"The man -- does he not deserve a burial?"

"There are many who think not, but, yes. I made an appeal to Captain Aldis. He allowed Roggvir to have a proper Nord burial, as is the custom in Solitude."

"I do not understand. There is no crime in winning a duel."

"Never been through these parts, have you?"

His eyes stayed to the floor.

"It is my first time. It is-- cold."

The man laughed.

"I've never decided if the wind or the tombs are colder--"

A faint creak preceded the skeleton that crept from the darkness. Without thinking, the Redguard held out a hand. Violet swirled between his fingertips before a sword rested in his palm. The blade hit -- between the third and fourth bones of the neck -- and the rest fell to the floor.

"Thank you, child. My bones creak almost as much as theirs. The darkness in this city will not allow even the dead to rest."

The priest walked to the pile of bones that laid across the floor and picked them up -- with hands bare -- before carefully placing each on a bench in front of an empty shelf.

"What brings you to Skyrim, child? Surely not the weather. Are you here as a mercenary?"

"I am -- an alchemist." 

"We could use more healers. But, I don't think you're here for that. You're an Asha'bah, are you not?"

The elder's hand rested on the man's back. He tensed.

"No wonder you are so comfortable with the dead. You will not be an outcast here."


End file.
